


find my direction magnetically

by satellites (brella)



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:05:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brella/pseuds/satellites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is through them that the Superboy learns how to be human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	find my direction magnetically

The moon had glowed like a platter on which the world before him was laid out, its nacreous gleam splashing onto his bones and his breath as he gazed up at it in awe. The Superboy had never seen anything so beautiful, so perfect. He hadn’t even noticed the Superman at first, his cape like a smear of ink on the luminescence, and sometimes he wonders what would have been different if he had never noticed the Superman to begin with.

But he is different now. He is Conner Kent. M’gann had chosen that name, and it had rolled off of her pink little tongue like a stone as smooth and round as the moon. He had cherished the name and pressed it to his chest and said it to himself in the dark, reminding himself that it was there, that he was not only a weapon, that he was special.

Conner is quiet, and so he thinks about a lot of things. He thinks about the way the sun hits the cornfields in Smallville when summer is deep. He thinks of the way the clouds burst apart when he leaps through them, just to see if he can reach them. He thinks of M’gann’s junior year science experiment, in which she had facilitated the evolution of a caterpillar into a butterfly. He thinks of the fragile wings in orange hues opening and shivering in the sunlight, the black lines twitching across them so perfectly. He thinks of tenderness and the dip in M’gann’s green, green collarbone; he thinks of the first Team movie night they’d ever had, the first time he had ever laughed.

Mostly, though, he thinks of Kaldur’ahm’s words to him that night in the deep red pits of Cadmus. He thinks of the way his arms had slung across the shoulders of Robin and Kid Flash and Aqualad and he thinks of running into the fray with them, side-by-side, brother-to-brother. He thinks of belonging and being free and he thinks of their smiles and he has never been so grateful, so fiercely loyal, to anyone.

They had shown him the moon. The air. The smiling girl with the verdant skin, the scowling girl with the verdant costume. The sea, the birds, the clouds and the soil and the butterfly. He had breathed it all in like air and now he has begun to let himself sleep in a bed, but only if M’gann is there, her cold breath wavering on his forehead like a tide, like the moonlight.


End file.
